


My Love For You (Will Echo In Eternity)

by NoahTN98



Series: Wicked Hearts of Wicked Men [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alistair and Cullen friendship, Blow Jobs, Cullen Rutherford Fluff, Dorian and Cullen being sweet, Hand Jobs, Inquisitor & Dorian Pavus Friendship, King Alistair, M/M, Reunions, Sweet Cullen Rutherford, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, background Maxwell and Josephine, the boys are finally married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-07 20:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13442673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoahTN98/pseuds/NoahTN98
Summary: It’s been three years since Cullen proposed to Dorian, a long time for anyone to be engaged in Thedas. With the Inquisition finished, the couple have had time to relax and settle down.Cullen and Dorian are due to be wed, and Cullen is more than excited to start a new chapter in his ever improving life. Saying goodbye to who he was before, and starting anew has always been difficult, but with Dorian by his side, he knows he can do anything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tristinai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristinai/gifts).



> I have had so much fun writing this series, and I would like to gift the final work in this series to tristinai, for sticking with it from the start. 
> 
> Thank you, and enjoy.

_Honnleath, Ferelden, 9:45 Dragon_

Three years had passed since their engagement, since the defeat of Corypheus, and since Leliana had been named Divine. A year had passed since the Exalted Council, the disbanding of the Inquisition, since he’d been recruited by Alistair to command the Royal Guardsmen, and Dorian’s imminent departure for Tevinter. He had to, Cullen understood that. He was needed in the magisterium, but that was months ago, and Cullen had Dorian back now.

Sun beamed through the curtain, shining on Cullen’s face, causing the man to stir. He brought his arm up to his face, grumbling in disapproval at being awake, rolling over to drape the same arm over Dorian. His fiancé. The man looked peaceful as he slept, a vast comparison to how he looked a month prior, when he had first returned from Tevinter. Cullen took the time to brush his fingers lightly over Dorian’s cheek, and through his hair, which had grown longer in the year since the Inquisition. It suited him, and ‘ _provided better leverage_ ’ as Dorian would say so himself.

The petting of his hair had slowly roused Dorian from his sleep, his eyes opening, drowsily fixing his gaze with Cullen’s. “Mm, good morning, amatus.”

“Morning, love.” Cullen smiles, pushing a stray strand of hair behind Dorian’s ear. “You look like you slept well.”

“Is that to say I look like I haven’t slept every other day?” Dorian quips, a slight smirk playing at his lips, his fingers tracing the outline of Cullen’s jaw.

Cullen chuckles, taking Dorian’s hand in his own, kissing the back of it. “Not at all, my love.” He pushes himself up slowly, stretching out, running his fingers through the loose curls. “Big day tomorrow. Maxwell and Josephine are due to arrive within the hour, so unless you wish for them to see your sleep-addled state, I would suggest dressing.”

Dorian sits up as well, then stands, stretching. “Perish the thought. I am more than capable of making myself look presentable in less than an hour.” Dorian grins, his eyes wandering the room, taking a moment to look at where their various clothing articles had landed the previous evening. Stepping over them, he goes to the drawers, picking out some clothes for the day. “Who else is to be arriving today? Everyone received their invitation, did they not?”

“Cassandra said she would definitely be here. Varric wouldn’t miss it for the world, apparently. Sera sent us a colourful reply, which, in short, assured us she would be here.” Cullen also picks out some clothes, dressing, grabbing the jar of hair oil. “Bull promised he would be here, mostly because he wants the food, and Vivienne said she would try to make an appearance. Even Cole wants to come. Obviously, my siblings are going to attend, but they’re not arriving until early tomorrow. So all in all, everyone will be here… Except for Leliana, of course.”

Dorian grabs his ribbon, tying his hair back, sitting at his dressing table to apply his kohl. “It is a shame, really, that Leliana isn’t able to attend. I understand her duties as Divine do keep her busy.” He glances at Cullen in the mirror, whistling when Cullen bends down, flashing him a grin when he turns around. “Oh, don’t look so surprised.” He hums, putting his earrings in, checking himself over in the mirror a few times before turning on the stall to look at Cullen. “You’ve kept an awful lot to yourself about the ceremony, amatus.”

“I told you that I intend to surprise you. You’ll enjoy it. Trust me.” Cullen walks over, lowering to Dorian’s height, pressing a kiss to his lips. “But then again, you’ve kept to yourself about what you’ll be wearing.”

“Trust me, amatus, you’ll approve of what I intend to wear.” Dorian smirks, catching Cullen’s lips again, standing. “Shall we eat?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Cullen slides his fingers between Dorian’s, kissing the back of his hand, before letting go so they could walk downstairs to eat.

Settling at the table, Dorian watches the flexing of Cullen’s still shirtless back with each movement of his arms as he made breakfast, setting some bread to toast on the hot stone. The telltale huffing noise and quick paw padding indicated that their Mabari, Tiberius, was awake. The pair had agreed, though Dorian was more reluctant in the early stages of the idea, to adopt the dog that Cullen had grown fond of at the Exalted Council. Provided Dorian was allowed to name him, of course.

“Good morning, boy.” Cullen smiles, lowering down to pet the mabari. He chuckles lightly at the excitable dog, and pats his head. “Alright, alright, give me a moment. Stay there.” Cullen stands, and fetches some food for the dog, placing the bowl down in front of him. Cullen then stands again, and moves over to the toast, turning it onto the other side. “Would you like some tea, love?”

“That sounds wonderful, yes please.” Dorian hums. “As disappointing as it would be to see that back of yours covered, I believe you should put a shirt on, instead of leaving it here on the table.” He leans over, resting a his hand on the table, and his head on his hand, holding up the tunic.

Cullen takes the tunic, and pulls it over his head. “Never in the years we’ve been together have you actually requested I put clothes on.” He teases, leaning down, kissing Dorian.

“I would hate for you to catch a chill, amatus. As warm as we try to keep it in here, this country is still one more temperature drop from everyone succumbing to frostbite.”

Cullen laughs, and resumes making the breakfast, more than aware of Dorian’s watching eyes.

***

Having lost himself in a book, while Cullen insisted on making sure everything was just so before Maxwell and Josephine’s arrival, Dorian almost jumps out of his skin at the abrupt knocking on their door. He carefully places the bookmark on the page he was reading, and closes the book, placing it down on the small table next to his chair. Cullen passes through Dorian’s periphery, opening the door, welcoming Max and Josie.

“I trust you got here safely?” Cullen asks, looking past them both at the Barded Charger behind them. He raises his eyebrow momentarily, stepping aside to allow the pair in, closing the door behind them. “Dorian should be in the other room. He has spent an awful lot of time reading since he returned from Tevinter.”

“He’s a man of habit.” Maxwell laughs lightly, following Cullen through to the room in which Dorian was now rising from his seat, Josephine following closely behind him. “Dorian! How wonderful to see you again!”

“Max. Josephine. It has been a while.” Dorian flashes a grin, hugging them both. “The year has been kind to you, Max. You certainly seem a lot better without all of that lyrium in your system.”

“I can’t thank Cullen enough for helping me with that, and Josephine for keeping me on the right track. I suppose it makes accessing the stuff a lot harder with only one arm.”

Josephine rolls her eyes, lightly slapping Maxwell’s arm, taking a seat on the couch. “Behave, Max.”

“I’m behaving perfectly, thank you.” He sits with her, watching as both Dorian and Cullen sit as well.

“When are the others supposed to arrive?”

“Everyone should arrive at some point today.” Cullen confirms, petting Tiberius as he comes through to investigate Maxwell and Josephine, quickly recognising them and deciding he liked them both.

“You know what that calls for, right?” Maxwell grins.

“Tavern?” Cullen flashes a light grin in return.

“Oh definitely.” Maxwell reaches down to pet the mabari, scratching behind his ear, chuckling when his tail thumps heavily against the wooden floor. “I see you agreed to adopt him, then? How did he enjoy those dog treats?”

“He won’t eat any other treats, now. So we have to buy the ridiculously expensive Orlesian dog treats.” Cullen huffs, watching Tiberius roll onto his back for stomach rubs.

“At least he has good taste in something.” Dorian quips. “A stark comparison to the things he finds enjoyable, such as rolling around in that blasted mud puddle in our garden.”

“He’s a dog, Dorian. That’s what dogs do.” Cullen shakes his head, and turns his attention to Tiberius, praising him.

Dorian rolls his eyes, and shares a glance with Josephine, as both Cullen and Maxwell sit with Tiberius to fuss him. Dorian’s gaze diverts when he hears another knock at the door, standing. “I’m not certain we’ve ever had this many people in our house. I’m quite certain we’ll be full to bursting if we try to fit everyone in.” He says in passing, and opens the door, cocking his eyebrow at Bull, who was carrying Krem on his shoulder for seemingly no reason at all.

“Dorian!” Bull exclaims, loudly, placing Krem down to pat Dorian on the shoulder. “Who’d have thought, huh? A guy like you getting married to a guy like Cullen?”

“A handsome mage marrying a strapping young ex-templar? The stuff of fairytales.” Dorian chuckles, stepping aside to allow both Bull and Krem inside. “Erotic fairytales.” He then grins, the comment causing Bull to laugh aloud, the horned man clearly trying to be careful in case of accidentally destroying bits of the wall with his horns.

Throughout the day, their friends arrive at Dorian and Cullen’s house, each of them congratulating the pair on the imminent wedding. While Dorian was quite comfortable to be in close capacity with the amount of people currently standing and sitting in various areas of their house, Cullen was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, something Dorian immediately picked up on in a sharing glance.

“I believe it’s time for us to pay the tavern a visit!” Dorian says cheerfully. “I’ve become quite accustomed to the taste of Ferelden swill.” He chuckles, the air knocked briefly from his lungs when Bull’s hand lands heavily on his back.

“Dorian! Are you having a bachelor party? What about you, Cullen?”

“I think I’ll stay for a few drinks in the tavern. I shan’t have too much. I would like to keep my wits about me.” Cullen half smiles at Bull, following everyone out, locking his door. “Dorian had planned to stay in the inn this evening, he insists that he must keep a secret what he’s wearing tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry, amatus.” Dorian slides his arm around Cullen’s, lightly bumping their shoulders together. “I won’t drink too much, and I’m quite sure Maxwell or Krem will have me hauled away before I get the chance to get too drunk.” He chuckles lightly, trying to reassure Cullen.

“I’m not overly worried, love. I know you better than to think you would go out and drink yourself into a stupor before an event as large as tomorrow.” Cullen turns his head, and kisses Dorian’s head lightly. “Instead, you’ll drink yourself happy at the after party.”

The group laughs, pouring into the tavern, occupying the tables at the back of the space while Bull and Cullen make their way to the bar to order the drinks.

“Dorian tells me that you two don’t plan to stay in Honnleath much longer?”

“No, we don't.” Cullen turns his attention to Bull once he’s ordered the drinks, leaning against the bar. “I don’t suppose he’s told you where we’re going?”

“He has! Don’t worry, I won’t mention it to anyone else. I’ll let him tell everyone tomorrow.” Bull grins, lightly knocking his shoulder against Cullen’s. “So, who did you ask to be your best man?”

“I… Actually asked King Alistair to attend as my best man. Whether he will or not is another matter entirely.” Cullen shrugs, grabbing some of the tankards, walking with Bull to the tables. “Dorian has promised to be on his best behaviour should it happen. Our officiant ensured to assist in whatever way possible to make sure that Alistair can make it.”

Bull laughs, sitting with the group at the table. “Well, good luck with that.”

Cullen smiles and shakes his head, wrapping an arm around Dorian as he cosies up to him, cocking his eyebrow when Trevelyan clears his throat and the group silences.

“A toast!” Maxwell declares as he stands, tankard of ale in hand. “To Cullen and Dorian. You two are my closest friends, and you deserve a lifetime of happiness. Wherever the Maker may take you, I hope you always have each other.”

The group cheer, clinking their tankards together, while Cullen and Dorian smile at each other, sharing a soft kiss.

***

The night presses slowly on, the number of tankards decorating the table increasing at an almost steady pace. Bull and Maxwell were joking loudly about his lack of arm, Josephine having a conversation with Cassandra about possible training for Maxwell, as his shield arm isn’t as good at swinging a hefty sword. 

Varric laughs with Sera for a moment, then speaks up to the group. “Since this is probably the last time we’re all going to be together like this for a very, very long time, what does everyone say to a game of Wicked Grace?”

The group agrees, though Cullen is more hesitant to accept the offer of a game, having lost the game they had played after the Exalted Council.

“I’d much prefer to keep what little dignity I have intact, thank you.”

“Don’t worry, Curly. We’re not going to make you take your clothes off in here. We’re not that cruel.” Varric laughs, watching Cullen’s hesitation change to a look of cautious confidence.

“Alright then. I suppose I can do one game…” Cullen’s words trail off, eyes trained on the door as a hooded figure walks into the tavern. It takes him a moment, but he stands, much to Dorian’s disapproval at the loss of his body heat. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

The figure moves towards the bar, leaning against it, keeping the hood up. Such behaviour was not uncommon in Ferelden, but Cullen was skeptical enough to proceed with investigation. The group continued to drink without him, loud enough to make up for the lack of noise from the other patrons. It is only when Cullen is standing at the bar himself that he recognises the figure behind the hood, the voice giving them away.

“You made it, then?” Cullen says, leaning against the bar, waiting for the other patron’s drink to come.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Cullen.” The voice comes quietly, a hand reaching to take the tankard when it’s placed down. “Is that your group over there?”

“Yes. Follow me. I’ll introduce you.” Cullen leads the figure to the table, pulling up a spare chair from a different table, and sitting down with the other. The figure slowly pulls down their hood, revealing themselves to the group at the table. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Alistair.”

“None of that royal etiquette needed while I’m with you.” Alistair assures the group at the table, raising his eyebrow at Cassandra, who was staring at him in shock. “Please. I have missed just being able to be Alistair.”

“There is a crown on his head, his blood is precious. He misses her heart the most.” Cole says softly from across the table, barely lifting his eyes from the King card in his hand.

A confused chuckle comes from Alistair, and he tilts his head at Cole. “That’s an interesting trick you did there, young man.”

“I’m sorry. I will not do it again if that’s what you want. I saw the hurt and I want to fix it.” Cole now lifts his head to look at Alistair. “She will come back. She is strong.”

Alistair huffs lightly, smiling, looking to Cullen for introductions. Cullen shifts in his seat, clearing his throat, introducing everyone at the table.

“The young man with the interesting hat is Cole. This is Seeker Cassandra. That’s Bull, and the man next to him is Cremisius, or Krem. That’s Sera, that’s Lady Josephine and former Inquisitor Maxwell Trevelyan. The man next to you is Varric.” Cullen wraps his arm around Dorian, smiling. “And this is Dorian. The love of my life.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Dorian purrs.

“It’s wonderful to meet you all. You’re certainly… Interesting.” Alistair grins. “I have missed being with people like this. Between all of you and me, noble gatherings are very boring.” He laughs, and drinks, placing the tankard down. “Are you playing Wicked Grace?”

“Do you want to join, your kingliness?” Varric reaches for the deck of cards.

“It’ll be interesting to see if I remember the rules.” Alistair lowers the cape from his shoulders, letting it drape over the back of the chair, taking the cards when they’re handed to him.

***

“Alistair and I best be off.” Cullen says as the game finally ends, stretching out, his hand coming to rest on Dorian’s. “There’s a lot to do, and I must get it done before I sleep.”

“Of course, Curly. Don’t worry, we’ll look after Sparkler for you.” Varric gathers the cards and takes his winnings. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Varric.” He says, and looks to Dorian, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “I shall see you tomorrow, my love.”

“Rest well, Amatus. Don’t push yourself too hard.” Dorian hums softly at the kiss, smiling at the other man.

Cullen returns the smile, and says his goodbyes to the group, leading Alistair out of the tavern and onto the streets of Honnleath.

“You’ve come a long way since before the blight, Cullen.” Alistair comments, idly glancing around at the houses. “Maker, after everything you’ve been through, I’m glad you have someone in your life.”

Cullen smiles, sighing happily. “There have been points where I feared I would lose him, and I feared I would never have him in the first place. But he… gave me a chance, and has stuck by me ever since. He has no idea how happy he makes me.”

“After you leave Ferelden, where will you go?” Alistair looks to Cullen. “My guardsmen will indeed miss their Commander, but happiness has led you somewhere else. Come by after your wedding, we will give you a send off.”

“All shall be revealed tomorrow. Dorian insisted I don’t tell anyone that he hasn’t told.” Cullen slips his hand into his pocket, getting his key out, opening his door.

“Your guardsmen will be fine, I’m sure. But thank you. I shall come by before we leave, and I’ll bring Dorian, if that’s okay?”

“Of course. I’m not going to ask that you leave him outside to freeze to death in the cold now, am I?” Alistair laughs, setting down his cape and knapsack on the couch. “This is a quaint little place you have here. Cosy.”

“Thank you.” Cullen walks through to the kitchen, gathering a plate of grapes and cheeses. “We have a mabari, Tiberius. He’ll greet you as soon as he realises I’m home.”

“Oh, a mabari!?” Alistair says loudly, looking down as the dog pads over to him, huffing. “You remind me of Barkspawn.” He says happily, leaning down to pet the dog, praising him. “You would have loved Barkspawn. He was wonderful. He loved rolling around in mud puddles on the castle grounds and annoying the servants that had to clean up after him.”

Cullen comes back through with the food for Alistair, setting it down on the small table in front of the couch. “Here. Have this. I don’t suspect you’ve eaten, so you must be hungry.”

“Thank you.” Alistair smiles, and takes the food, sitting on the couch with Tiberius at his feet. He starts to eat, humming, relaxing into the seat. “Promise you’ll still write to me when you leave? It’s nice to have letters from someone that isn’t an arrogant noble.”

“Of course I will. Perhaps Dorian will write, too. Though his letters are likely to be more explicit than mine, if his attitude towards you earlier was anything to go by.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

“I don’t fear harmless flirting, nor do I fear when he’s open about it. I would only have to fear him keeping his flirting a secret.” Cullen shrugs. “Have you heard from the Queen recently.”

“Unfortunately not. I… I fear she may not come back.” Alistair sighs. “But I have to keep my hopes up. She’s too young to succumb to the Calling just yet.”

“She’ll come back, Alistair. I assure you.” Cullen pats Alistair’s shoulder. “Once you’re done with that, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping, then I need your help with what I’m wearing tomorrow.”

“My help? Why would you need my help with that?”

“Of the two of us here, the only one to have actually been married is you. It… It needs to look good. Dorian doesn’t know what I’m wearing, and I want to at least make sure it’s up to a good standard.”

“All right. I can help you with that.” Alistair shrugs, putting some cheese in his mouth. “Oh! You never told me. How has it been? Coming off the lyrium?”

“Well, I’ve actually managed to make a full recovery from it. I don’t have withdrawal symptoms anymore, and I got well enough to assist with helping someone else come off the stuff. Dorian was there with me through it, he insists that I smell better, and that I’ve a lot more stamina since being clean.” Cullen smiles. “It… Wasn’t easy. Some of the nightmares will haunt me until the day I die, but life is easier.”

“That’s wonderful to hear.” Alistair smiles, placing down the now empty plate, standing. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

Cullen leads Alistair through to his bedroom, opening the closet, grabbing the bagged wedding suit and placing it on the bed. “Here it is.” He huffs nervously, hesitating for a moment, glad when Alistair opens it before he can change his mind. Inside the bad was a white silk tunic and white straight-cut breeches with a black belt, along with a fitted jacket and gloves. The jacket was white with gold trim and gold buttons, and the accompanying gloves were also gold. “I bought some new boots for the occasion as well.”

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about this, Cullen.” Alistair carefully picks up the jacket, looking it over, a gentle smile creeping across his lips. “You chose perfectly. Everyone will be in awe of you when they see you in this.”

“Are you sure? Dorian won’t be disappointed?”

“It’s highly unlikely that he’ll be disappointed. Though, if you manage to get some mess on your white jacket before the ceremony, he might be.” Alistair teases, carefully putting the suit back into the bag, handing it back to Cullen. “How do you plan to have your hair?”

“Slicked. I’d rather Sera didn’t see how curly my hair can get.” Cullen grumbles, placing the suit back, letting out a heavy breath. “Alright. Everything should be fine, then.” He pats his own thighs, and begins to pace. “Everything will be fine.”

Alistair watches for a moment, then places his hands on Cullen’s shoulders. “Cullen. I assure you, tomorrow will go perfectly. Get some rest. You have a big day ahead of you.”

Cullen nods, running his fingers through his hair, watching Alistair walk off. “Alistair, wait. I never told you where the room was!”

“Is it this one on the left?” Alistair calls back, laughing lightly when he receives a confused ‘yes’. “It smells like spices and has a small gift for me on the chair. Don’t worry. I’ll sort myself out.”

Cullen takes a moment to calm his breathing, and finally settles down, sitting on the end of his bed. Three years ago, he couldn’t have even dreamed of this day coming. He was sure one of them would die in battle, ‘it would be thematically appropriate’ as Dorian would have said. Now, here he was, due to get married tomorrow. Surrounded by the people he loves and cares about, playing host to the King of Ferelden. Oh, how his life had changed.

He drops back, staring up at the ceiling, watching the permanent star display that Dorian had placed there to help Cullen rest.

_It’ll always reflect the night sky. Perfect for watching meteor showers without the need to go outside._

Cullen smiles, and closes his eyes, allowing himself to fall asleep. Tomorrow was the beginning of a new chapter in his life, and Maker, he was looking forward to it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the wait. I sprained my wrist

Dorian stands in front of the mirror, adorned in black silk with gold trim, a gold snake embroidered into the sleeve of the left arm. Maxwell and Bull join Dorian at either side, looking in the mirror with him. He runs his hand down the front of his robes, specially imported from Tevinter, smiling to himself.

“You look great, Dorian.” Maxwell smiles. “You’ll have Cullen in tears.”

Dorian laughs lightly, adjusting his hair ribbon. “If Cullen cries, then I’ll start to cry, and I’ll look a mess if I start to cry.” He takes a shaky breath, and turns to look at the men beside him. “I trust that whatever Cullen has planned is gorgeous.”

“This is Cullen we’re talking about. He makes sure to do everything perfectly.” Bull chuckles. “He’ll make sure you approve of it.”

Maxwell takes a moment to straighten out his own formals, black robes with ring velvet trimming, and then brush his hand lightly over the front of Dorian’s robes. “Are you ready to go? It’s nearly time. Cullen’s siblings arrived this morning, did they not?”

“Yes, they did.” Dorian says softly, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“What’s up, big guy? Not having second thoughts, are you?” Bull rests his hand lightly on Dorian’s shoulder, being surprisingly careful.

“I invited my mother to the wedding.” Dorian catches Maxwell’s gaze. “The woman I told you about. Well… She never replied. I don’t think she’s coming.” Dorian then diverts his gaze, looking anywhere other than at the other two men. He knew it was a push to invite his mother to the wedding. Even if she were to show up, she would be drinking heavily, and likely try to stop the wedding.

“Maker, Dorian. I’m sorry.” Maxwell tries to comfort the man, hesitantly reaching out his hand to rest on his shoulder, but opts not to.

“It’s fine. It’s nothing I’m not used to. Can we just… I’m ready.” Dorian huffs, giving himself a moment, trying not to overthink how everything could turn out. “Yes. Definitely ready. Shall we go before I change my mind?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea. Everyone else is already at the Chantry. Josephine ensured that everyone was dressed smartly and on time.” Maxwell says as he and Bull lead Dorian out of the inn, and into the awaiting carriage outside. “Bull will go in first, that allows the officiant to be notified of your arrival. I’ll be there to give you away.”

“Thank you.” Dorian smiles, settling in the carriage, looking through the window as he gives himself some time to calm down. He felt a mixture of emotion, coming from the fact that he was finally marrying the love of his life - something he believed he would never have the privilege of doing - and the ceremony being a surprise. Dorian had trusted Cullen with the organisation, but not knowing made him nervous. More nervous than he needed to be.

In the Chantry, Cullen was introducing his family members to the former Inquisition members, glancing over his shoulder when a hand comes to rest on it lightly. He smiles as he turns, facing Leliana. While he had informed Dorian that she would be unable to attend, he had asked her to officiate their wedding, and she had done everything in her power to be here.

“Maker, am I glad to see you.” Cullen huffs out happily, allowing himself to be embraced when Leliana moves to hug him. “The Divine, Royalty, our friends, and my family all in the same place.”

“It should not come as a surprise to you that I made it, Cullen. I promised I would do what I could to come here, you know I would not let you down.”

“I do know that, yes.” Cullen rubs the back of his neck, glancing around at the colours and décor. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“Dorian is an extravagant man in life and in love.” She says softly, resting her hand on his arm. “If he is not crying at the sight of this, he will be in tears by the after party.”

Cullen nods, watching as Leliana adjusts the buttons on his jacket. He thanks her, and moves to take his place at the head of the aisle, his hands crossed in front of him. He listens closely as the chantry falls silent, the sound of wheels on gravel could be heard outside, the doors opening.

A lump forms in Cullen’s throat. Nothing he could have done in his life would ever have prepared him for this. He swallows, Bull’s footsteps falling heavily on the floor as he takes his place at the back of the chantry. His gaze meets with Leliana’s, a reassuring smile crossing her lips, her gaze diverting as the doors open once again.

Cullen could feel his heartbeat in his ears as everyone stands from their seats, his skin flushing, nerves washing over him. _‘Maker’_ he hears someone whisper, his gaze diverting slightly to Alistair, whose eyes had widened.

“Cullen…” Alistair says quietly, his hand coming up to Cullen’s arm, encouraging the man to turn around and have a look.

***

Dorian is led into the Chantry by Maxwell, their arms linked, his nervous demeanour immediately changing to pleasant shock when he catches sight of the décor, the guests, and Cullen.

Rows of pews were laden with black and white silks, a delicate rose threaded where the fabrics met. A young boy, no older than seven, whom he presumed to be Cullen’s nephew, stood as ring bearer, holding the cushion close to his chest to prevent Dorian from peeking at the rings.

Dorian’s eyes wandered about the Chantry Hall and landed on Leliana, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. Not only had Cullen managed to incorporate Tevinter’s colours in silk, but he had managed to get Leliana here to officiate their wedding. At the end of the aisle was Alistair and Cullen, Alistair dressed in his royal garments, his lover adorned in gold and white.

Dorian finds himself pausing for a moment to regain his composure, refusing to cry before Cullen gets to see him. His gaze flicks to Maxwell, who was waiting patiently for Dorian. He didn’t understand how the man could be so calm, but then, it wasn’t Maxwell who was getting married. That had already happened. Dorian’s hand squeezes Maxwell’s arm so they can continue to walk, taking note of the various comments he was receiving from the guests, holding his breath when he watches Alistair nudge Cullen.

A few steps away, Dorian watches as Cullen turns to glance at him, finding himself smiling a second later. Cullen turns completely, his hand coming up to his mouth, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. Dorian’s arm is freed as Maxwell moves away, standing next to Cullen at the altar. The Chantry is silent, spare the few light coughs and comments coming from the attendants. Maxwell and Bull stand to the side of Dorian, Alistair remains at Cullen’s side, everyone else taking a seat when gestured to do so.

“Maker, Dorian…” Cullen comments, taking Dorian’s hand in his own, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “You are… More perfect than I could ever have imagined.”

A light laugh passes Dorian’s lips, lacing his fingers between Cullen’s, letting their hands fall down between them, keeping their gazes locked. Leliana proceeds with the ceremony, addressing the Chantry in entirety, reciting a script her revered mothers would have spoken many a time before. Dorian uses this time to admire Cullen, the slight curl of his hair where he hadn’t slicked it back completely, the way his eyes had softened through the years from the stern gaze he had once held, all the way down the small scar hidden in his stubble. New. Acquired when training a guardsman who almost gave Cullen a run for his money. How he had reprimanded Cullen for not being more careful after receiving that letter.

Dorian turned his head to look briefly at Leliana as she began to address them, small footsteps of Cullen’s nephew making his way down the aisle to give the rings to Alistair catching his attention, smiling at the young boy.

“This is the part where you make a promise.” Leliana says softly, clasping her hands in front of her.

Cullen and Dorian share a glance, and Cullen shifts his footing, an indication that he wished to go first. “Dorian, you are my best friend. The man I wish to build my life with, to grow old with, to love and to hold until the day I die. Today, I promise you this: I will laugh with you in times of joy, and comfort you in times of sorrow. I will share in your dreams, support you as you strive to achieve your goals, and have your back when times get tough. I wish only to make you happy, and I will do everything I can to make sure you never feel as though you are not loved.” He glances at Leliana, and then back to Dorian. “I swear, unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste, to love this man for the rest of my days.”

The tears that had previously been swelling in Dorian’s eyes had begun to stream down his cheeks, taking the kohl with them. Dorian’s grip on Cullen’s hands shift, clearing his throat, beginning his own vows. Admittedly, he had received assistance from Maxwell with these, but he was proud of what he had. “I, Dorian, choose you, Cullen, to be the man I lay my head with in the evenings, and wake to in the mornings. There is little to say that you haven’t already heard, and little to give that is not already freely given. I promise to work with you to foster and cherish a relationship of equality knowing that together we will build a life far better than either of us could imagine alone.” Dorian licks his lips to give himself pause and regain what little composure he had prior to beginning his speech, his voice having crumbled quickly into soft croaks. “I marry you with no hesitation or doubt. I swear, unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste, to love this man for the rest of my days.”

Cullen takes his hands from Dorian’s, wiping the tears from his cheeks with his thumbs, trying not to spoil his gold gloves too much. His sister could be heard sobbing softly in the pews, as could Josephine and Cassandra, something neither of them expected. He laughs softly as Dorian also attempts to clean his face, both men resuming their hand holding a moment later, waiting patiently for Leliana.

“Gentlemen, please remove your gloves, and place them into your pockets.” Leliana says and watches as the pair do so. “Cullen and Dorian will now exchange rings.”

Cullen turns and takes the first ring from Alistair, holding it in his right hand. With his left hand, he takes Dorian’s left hand, waiting again for instruction.

“Cullen, as you place this ring on Dorian’s finger, please repeat after me: Dorian, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love. I ask that you wear it as a sign to the world you are my husband. With this ring, I thee wed .”

Cullen carefully slips the ring onto Dorian’s finger, repeating Leliana’s words. “Dorian, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love. I ask that you wear it as a sign to the world you are my husband. With this ring, I thee wed .”

Dorian takes the second ring from Alistair, also holding it in his right hand, taking Cullen’s left in his own.

“Dorian, as you place this ring on Cullen’s finger, please repeat after me: Cullen, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love. I ask that you wear it as a sign to the world you are my husband. With this ring, I thee wed .”

Dorian places the ring on Cullen’s finger, carefully reciting the words as per Leliana’s instruction. “Cullen, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love. I ask that you wear it as a sign to the world you are my husband. With this ring, I thee wed.”

“With the blessing of the Maker and the Holy Andraste, I happily pronounce you wed. You may now exchange kisses.” Leliana smiles brightly, joining the applaud when Dorian and Cullen share their first kiss as a married couple. The congregation stands, applauding still as Cullen and Dorian take each other’s hands, and turn to walk down the aisle together, leaving the Chantry and getting into the awaiting carriage.

***

Hours later, and the wedding reception is underway. There was room enough for everyone in the hall that Cullen had managed to hire out, and the noise that was being made while everyone was eating and greeting more than made up the extra room. Dorian and Cullen were sat at the head table, Alistair next to Cullen, Maxwell next to Dorian. Josie was sat with Maxwell, and Bull with Alistair, who’d got on a lot better than Cullen had originally expected. Leliana, of course, was present as well, though she had opted to sit with Cassandra and Sera at one of the guest tables, rather than take up the offer of sitting at the head table with the newly weds.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cullen can see Josephine reaching for Maxwell’s glass and spoon, standing as she taps the glass three times in order to gather everyone’s attention. She then sits as Maxwell stands, allowing him to begin his speech. “Traditionally, I would not be the one giving this speech. But I am honoured that Dorian asked me to do so, as a close friend of his, and I couldn’t turn it down. For those who don’t know my name, I am Maxwell Trevelyan. I have known Dorian for several years now, and admittedly, our relationship was never this strong. There have been times when I wished only to throttle him, and nearly did, but he gave me support in times I did not deserve it.” He smiles down at Dorian. “I am proud to call Dorian my friend. I have watched him flourish, find his place within the Inquisition, my friendship circle, and in love. Wherever life may take you, Dorian, I wish you only happiness, and I am glad you have found some of that with Cullen.”

Maxwell sits as the guests applaud, a smile painting both Dorian and Cullen’s faces. Dorian presses a gentle kiss against Maxwell’s cheek, a gesture that would have been reciprocated with a smack several years ago, and whispers a thanks into his ear over the noise. Dorian then turns to Cullen, and kisses him gently, resting his hand on his thigh under the table.

Cullen returns the kiss, cupping Dorian’s cheek, then stands himself. “My years as a soldier, giving orders to squadrons of recruits, could never have prepared me for what it would be like to stand here in front of you all, delivering a speech in declaration of my love for Dorian.” He takes a shaky breath, his hand coming to rest on Dorian’s shoulder. “Dorian and I are thankful for the support we have received in the last few years. Be that in the form of raunchy comments,” He pauses as Bull and Sera cheer, knowing it was aimed at them. “Or gentler forms, help with personal issues, family, reminding us that we have friends even when we felt alone.” He smiles down at Josie and Maxwell, and then to Cassandra and Leliana. He clears his throat and shifts his footing, looking out at their friends and family. “None of this would have been possible without any of you. But especially Cole. Without Cole, we wouldn’t have know our feelings were mutual. We wouldn’t be standing here today without the help of our friend. I end this speech knowing that we will always have people there when times get tough, no matter how far away we end up. As most of you know, we won’t be staying in Fereldan. Dorian and I leave for Minrathous in two days. Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep Dorian away from the Magisterium forever, but his position as a Magister will make it easier for me to live there. I am… Excited to begin this new chapter in my life, with a man I can now call my husband, and hope for a family in the future.”

Cullen’s eyes scan the room as their guests applaud, waiting for a safe time to sit down, joining his hand with Dorian’s under the table when he does. Dorian had decided not to make a speech, he felt that everything he needed to say had been said over the years, and anything further could be expressed in their bedroom in the evening. Alistair, however, had prepared something short, and so he stood, laughing lightly when he receives a suggestive noise from one of Cullen’s sisters.

“Thank you, but I’m married. I haven’t much to say about Cullen that you don’t already know. Having seen how far he has come since I met him during the blight, I can say he’s one of the most hardworking men I know. His retirement from official service is well-earned, though we all know he’s going to appoint himself as Dorian’s personal bodyguard.” Alistair chuckles lightly. “I will miss him. Greatly. The year he spent with me and my men was… Interesting to say the least, and you both will always be welcome to stay with me whenever you come to visit. Do take good care of him, Dorian.” He clears his throat, raising his tankard in the air. “To Dorian and Cullen. May you never lose this happiness you have worked so hard to build.”

“To Dorian and Cullen!” The other guests echo, and then applaud as Alistair sits, happily continuing to eat.

***

Several large candles, and many smaller ones, lit the hall as evening drew near and the music slowed. Cullen found that his family was getting on well with his friends, Branson and Maxwell particularly. He watched while Dorian entertained his sister Mia, huddled near the buffet with his nephew. Another drop in tempo indicated it was time for the last dance, both Dorian and Cullen’s heads lifting, the men making their way to the centre of the room.

As the pair met, Dorian’s hand slid up to Cullen’s shoulder, Cullen’s hand to Dorian’s waist, their other hands joining and their fingers locking. “I see you’re not quite so worried about _this_ dance, Amatus.”

“I have no reason to be worried now, my love.” Cullen smiles, waiting for the music to start up again, taking lead of the gentle waltz when it does. “I’m not dancing to impress Orlesian nobles.”

Dorian chuckles lightly, following Cullen’s lead. “No, you’re just dancing to impress myself and our guests.” Dorian smirks as Cullen rolls his eyes.

Cullen’s hands slide slowly down to Dorian’s hips, Dorian’s arms over his shoulders. Their pace slows, their dance becoming more intimate as it progresses. Dorian’s head is resting in the crook of Cullen’s neck, relaxed.

“Can you believe it?” Dorian asks, drawing Cullen’s attention from the music.

“Believe what?” He asks, tilting his head down, his eyebrow cocked curiously.

“We’re married. We’re actually married, and we’re moving to Tevinter. With the Tiberius, of course.” Dorian lifts his head, smiling. “I love you so much, Amatus.”

Cullen smiles, pressing a soft kiss to Dorian’s lips. “I love you too, Dorian. No matter what happens.”

Dorian returns the kiss, his hands holding Cullen’s face to keep him there as the music stops, grinning as he pulls away. Cullen cocks his eyebrow at the smirk, the dancefloor around them being flooded with their guests, a slight squeak exiting him as his wrist is grabbed and he’s pulled away.

“How much do you think we can get away with before they notice we’re gone?” Dorian asks, pulling Cullen to a quiet corner, away from everyone else.

“Completely insatiable.” Cullen smirks, shifting the grip between them so Dorian’s wrist was in his hand, pressing the other man against the wall. “Are you sure you want to do this now?”

“What harm can there be in a little bit of fun now, and _a lot_ of fun later?” Dorian rocks his hips against Cullen’s, his free hand sliding up to open Cullen’s jacket. “I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

Cullen nods, allowing his jacket to fall open as Dorian’s hand worms it’s way under his tunic, lifting Dorian’s other hand above his head and keeping it there. He leans forward as Dorian’s head tilts back, pressing kisses to his throat, grunting softly when the response is more eager rutting. “Maker, Dorian…” He whispers, pressing his head against the wall next to Dorian’s.

Dorian’s hand slips down, unbuckling Cullen’s belt and unlacing his breeches, slipping his hand inside. He wraps his hand around Cullen, stroking slowly, kissing the man when he lifts his head. His hand is released from above his head, Cullen’s hands pushing open his robes, one of them venturing into his breeches. His moan is muffled by the kiss, hand clenching around Cullen’s length when he is stroked, biting down on Cullen’s bottom lip. Dorian’s free hand grips Cullen’s hair when his feet are pushed further apart, looking down between them as Cullen wraps his hand around both of them. “Cullen…”

“Yes?” Cullen lifts his head to Dorian’s gaze, a slight pant passing his lips.

“Do try not to get anything on our clothes.” Dorian teases, and rocks up into their hands, his breathing getting heavier.

Cullen works his hand with Dorian’s, building his pace, his forehead pressed against Dorian’s. “Let me know- ah- when…” Cullen pants, holding back his groans. Moments pass, their hands moving in sync, until Cullen feels Dorian’s hand gripping his arm tightly, pressing his fingertips hard against him.

“Amatus…” Dorian bites his lip, his hips bucking violently into Cullen’s hand. “Cullen, please…”

Cullen pulls his hand away, and drops down onto his knees, taking Dorian into his mouth. A hand slides into his hair, taking control of the movements of his head. His own hand reaches down to continue stroking himself while Dorian fucks his mouth, keeping his tongue flat and his throat relaxed. It doesn’t take long until Dorian is spilling down his throat, his own cock twitching and spilling into his hand. His hair is released, and he sits back, panting. “Do you have some cloth or anything, love?” He asks, using his clean hand to tuck himself back in, standing up.

“No. I have a mouth, though. Let me clean you up, we have a wedding reception to return to.” Dorian grins, grabbing Cullen’s wrist and cleaning his hand with his mouth. When he feels Cullen’s hand is clean enough, he releases it, and sorts his clothes while Cullen sorts his own.

Cullen leans close, and kisses Dorian softly, before taking his hand and returning with him to the main area. Dorian grabs a glass of wine for himself and Cullen, and joins him at a table, watching their friends. Maxwell and Josephine were dancing, as were Alistair and Leliana, though their dance was less intimate and more of a chance to catch up. Cassandra seemed to be enjoying herself, sitting with Varric, who had handed her another book. Even after all these years, Varric was still writing the series for Cassandra. Cullen’s siblings were talking with Bull, Krem, and Sera. Much to his promise, Bull was behaving, and seemed to be getting along with Cullen’s nephew, allowing the young boy to punch his hands.

Dorian took a moment to let everything sink in. His eyes glanced around the room several times, and then focused on the man beside him. Cullen. His husband.

_Husband._

Dorian’s hand came to rest on top of Cullen’s, sliding their fingers together, smiling at him when he gained his attention. The smile he received in return, that smile reserved only for him, had Dorian crying once again, laughing at himself for being so sensitive.

“Amatus…” Dorian said softly, squeezing Cullen’s hand.

“Yes, love?” Cullen places his glass down, wiping his thumb under Dorian’s eyes, his hand coming to rest on his cheek.

“I love you.”

There was pause as Cullen looked into Dorian’s eyes, a soft smile spread across his lips. Cullen leans forwards, kissing Dorian gently, pulling back to rest their foreheads together.

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, fin.  
> I had so much fun writing this series, and I plan to write more Cullrian in the future.


End file.
